Honey

this is fire yo ❤️❤️❤️

🏹🩷🫦🔥

sorry, wrong number! — tanaka ryuunosuke. chapter seven; chrome tf up.

contents word count; 2,353. UNSAFE DRIVING PRACTICES; i do not endorse having more people than seats in a car while driving, please be safe. piercings. profanity. weird laugh nishinoya supremacy. making fun of kuroo’s age… again. oh also, kagehina implied.

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“Well, that was bad.”

You can barely resist the urge to roll your eyes. “Yeah, no shit. I can’t believe I talked all that shit just for us to lose. Horribly.”

Nekoma lost. Somehow, they managed to lose 25-12 in both sets. They didn’t need to play a third because of their loss in the first two. The whole team had walked to the locker room dejected, but Karasuno had practically skipped into theirs with delight.

Tetsuro leans against the wall, and you mirror his actions, crossing your arms over your chest. Just down the hall, you can faintly hear the song Sticky playing on a speaker, paired with a few voices screaming along to the lyrics. It makes you want to roll your eyes even more. Cocky sons of—

“It wasn’t that bad,” Tetsuro tries to argue, shrugging his shoulders. “Kenma had a few good sets. ‘Tora  looked like he was working overtime. I bet he’ll feel that shit tomorrow.”

You don’t answer. Your eyes are trained on a poster in front of you, of the volleyball team. You take a few steps closer and scan the paper—not looking for Tanaka. But, your eyes do happen to land on him, and you don’t look away.

If you’re going to be honest, he looks stupid. His grin is too wide and his eyes are squinted shut and his chin is pointed up and his biceps aren’t even that big so you don’t know why he’s flexing and—

“Ramen? Again? Brother, you gotta get some real food in you, or you’re going to keel over and die. Seriously. I bet Saeko will make us some food tonight.”

It doesn’t sound familiar, but you know who it is. It doesn’t sound like how you pictured it to sound, but you know it’s Tanaka’s raspy voice bouncing off the walls. 

And when you try to look in his direction, you can’t.

It’s like your feet are cemented to the ground, head stuck in one place. You’re not even staring at the poster anymore, just spacing off into the wall. You don’t know why you’re suddenly so nervous, but you hate it.

“Kuroo? Holy shit, no wa—” The voice cuts out and somehow you know his eyes are on you. “Well, well, well. What do we have here?”

The cringe that shoots through your body is enough to shake you from your nervous state. Your face scrunches up and you turn around to finally look at him. “What are you, an anime character?”

He opens his mouth, probably for some stupid retort, but his words die on his tongue. For a long, stretched out moment, he just stares at you.

Awkwardly, you clear your throat. “What? Do I have something on my face?” He shakes his head and you look away, nodding once. “Okay, cool.”

“Dude, you’re being lame as shit right now.” A whisper, a different voice. Tanaka makes a sound of pain and from your peripheral vision, you can see Nishinoya elbow him in the stomach. “Chrome the fuck up.”

Tanaka scoffs, but it kind of turns into a snicker. “So, uh,” he clears his throat, shifting his backpack on his shoulders, “what are we waiting for? Aren’t you guys coming to my house? For Saeko, or whatever?”

“Kenma,” you and Tetsuro say at the same time. You share a glance, then shake your head. “We’re waiting for Kenma,” you say. “He takes forever in the locker room.”

Tanaka nods, rocking on his heels awkwardly.

The situation almost makes you laugh. Tanaka was so brave over text, and now? He’s acting like a middle schooler. You have to look down at the ground so they don’t see the smile on your face.

Finally—finally—Kenma comes out of the locker room, bag slung over his shoulder, eyes glued to his phone. What an iPad kid.

“You’re such an iPad kid,” Tetsuro says, rolling his eyes. “We’ve been waiting for, like, fifteen minutes. How difficult is it to change clothes?”

“I’m a minor, please stop talking to me.” Kenma doesn’t even look up from his phone. You snicker slightly and bump his shoulder as he walks past. At that, he looks up. “Are we leaving, or what?”

“If by leaving you mean going to Tanaka’s, then yes.” You nod, then look over at Tanaka and smile. “Well? Lead the way.”

You don’t know how or why, but somehow you pick up two more kids on your way out: Hinata, Kenma’s orange-haired friend, and Kageyama, Hinata’s freakishly quiet friend. Though, you use the term friend loosely, because you don’t think they can really be friends when Kageyama looks at him like that.

And then, somehow, Tanaka convinces everyone to pile up into one car. Seven people in a five-seater car. Tanaka is driving, you’re sitting in the passenger seat, and Nishinoya and Hinata are sitting on the ground in the backseat, while the other three sit in the actual seats. It’s not safe, by any means, but it is fun when a good song starts playing and everyone starts belting the lyrics. They’re all yelling over each other, Tanaka can barely keep his eyes on the road, the two on the floor are complaining about their backs, Tetsuro keeps saying that they’re going to get pulled over, and you haven’t stopped laughing since you got in the car.

You keep glancing over at Tanaka, though not on purpose. It’s like there’s a string that keeps pulling you towards him, a feeling you’ve never felt before. He’s so . . . in his element. He’s making people laugh, surrounded by friends—this is what being truly confident in yourself looks like. And he has that right, to be 100% confident. Admittedly, you watched him on the court more than you watched your own team. There’s something so enticing about him. You couldn’t take your eyes off of him.

Eventually, you make it to his house. It’s a small house, but it’s nice. The inside isn’t decorated too much, but there are quite a few pictures hanging on the walls and sitting on various end tables and cabinets. Tanaka and his sister when they were younger, them and their dad at theme parks, school pictures—you can’t help but notice the lack of a mother in the pictures. You press your lips together and stop looking at them.

All of the boys pile into the house and it suddenly hits you that you’re hanging out with a bunch of teenage boys. You scrunch your nose up and quietly sigh. Where’s Saeko when you need her?

“Saeko! Your client is here!” Tanaka’s voice is much too loud for how close everyone is to him, but he doesn’t seem to care. When no one calls back to him, he takes a deep breath and shouts louder. “Saeko!”

The sound of a door crashing open echoes throughout the house, then stomps coming from further inside the house. You’re all still standing by the front door, talking about different things. 

“What do you want, you little twerp?” A voice rings out. Saeko. You smile at the name calling. “I try to have a little peace and quiet while you’re gone and—“ she stops talking when she comes into view. “Oh.” She blinks a few times, taking in the teenagers in front of her. “Yeah, thanks for telling me we had guests, Ryuu.” She smiles sarcastically and you snicker. You love her already.

“Hi,” you say, bowing slightly. “I’m Y/n, it’s nice to meet you. Thank you for, uh, agreeing to pierce me? It was very nice of you—especially since it was such short notice.”

“Oh, I like you.” She smiles and hums. “Also, please don’t bow. I’m older than you, but I’m not old. Just treat me like a friend. Actually, we’re friends now. You can call me Sae. Come on, let’s get this shit set up.”

She turns on her heel and begins to walk the way she came from. You glance back at Tetsuro and raise your brows. He shakes his head and sighs dramatically. “Mom is so going to kill us,” he mumbles.

And then your eyes unconsciously flit to Tanaka. You’re half-surprised to see that he’s already looking at you, a small, crooked smile on his face. You can feel your face heat up and you look away. It’s so pathetic how he makes you feel. You follow Saeko’s footsteps, to where you think she went.

You find her in the bathroom, where a few piercing tools are laid out on the sink. You swallow hard upon seeing them.

“It’ll be fine,” Saeko reassures as she pulls on a pair of black medical gloves. She pops a bubble with the gum you didn’t know she was chewing. “You look like a tough cookie.”

There’s a stampede of footsteps down the hallway that stops right before the door. You turn around to find all the boys staring into the bathroom, eyes wide.

“Hey! Don’t you guys know what privacy is? Jesus, get outta here!” Saeko flails her arm in their direction and a few of them flinch.

“No, no. It’s okay!” You reassure, laughing a little. “They can stay, I don’t mind. But if they make fun of me for crying like a baby, will you kick their asses for me?”

She snickers, and nods. “Hell yeah.”

One of them audibly swallows and a wave of laughter rolls over the boys. You laugh too, glancing at Tanaka to see him smile. Jesus, you are so screwed.

“Okay.” Saeko claps her hands together and sighs quickly. “Can you sit on the counter for me? I have to sanitize your nose.”

You nod, not hesitating to hop up on the sink. She wipes your nose down with an alcohol wipe. It kind of burns, but you don’t say anything. She tells you that the instruments she’s using are sanitized, which is why they’re in a bag.

And then she puts a dot on your nostril, where she’s going to pierce. You look in the mirror, check the placement, and accidentally catch Tanaka’s eyes. He gives you a small, encouraging smile and it really does calm you down. 

“Looks perfect,” you say to Saeko, smiling nervously. “In your professional opinion, how much will this hurt?”

“Not at all.” She shakes her head. That doesn’t really help much, though, because she has about thirteen visible piercings and you’re sure her pain tolerance is much higher than yours. She puts the clamp in place and raises her brows. “Ready?”

You glance to the doorway, where all the boys have worried looks on their face, and take a deep breath, letting your eyes fall shut. You keep them like that and say, “as I’ll ever be.”

The next few seconds seem to pass in slow motion. You can’t see anything, but you can sense her hand coming closer to your face. The needle touches your skin and you almost flinch, but resist. There’s a sharp pain and then—

“I’m gonna put in the jewelry now, ‘kay?”

There’s some more jostling of the clamp and then something else slides into place. The clamp leaves your nose and then you can no longer feel her hands by your face.

Slowly, you peel your eyes open. Saeko is smiling at you, wide and almost unhinged. “All done,” she says. “Take a look.”

You turn around and look in the mirror once again, the blue dot now replaced by a stud. There’s redness, but no blood. You turn your head a little, looking at it from the side and from the front. It looks good—you look good.

A small giggle escapes your mouth and you smile, wider than ever. “Oh my god,” you mumble. You turn back to Saeko and laugh. “My mom is going to kill me.”

“You look so cute, though,” she shakes her head, pressing her lips together. “Maybe if you wear a Kakashi-style mask, she won’t notice.”

“A sheisty, if you will.” It’s the first time Tanaka has spoken in a while, but his comment gets a giggle out of you and makes him smile. God, that stupid, stupid smile. 

“If you will,” Nishinoya repeats, doubling over in laughter. Was it really that funny? His laugh is weird and loud and so ridiculous that everyone else starts laughing. When you laugh with them, you feel like you’re where you belong.

“Okay, who’s hungry?” Saeko asks, halting the laughter of everyone. Simultaneously, everyone’s hands shoot up in the air. “Right. I’m cooking for a small army, got it.”

The food Saeko makes is ridiculously good. The boys practically eat the Tanaka’s out of house and home with how much they consume. The table is completely full, more laughter filling the house.

You belatedly realize that Tanaka is really funny. You also realize that, yeah, you like him. And it’s not some huge moment, where time slows down and a romantic song plays in the background. 

You realize it as he looks at you, smiling, and you snort out a laugh when you spot some food stuck in his braces.

“What? What’s so funny? I didn’t even say anything.”

“You have—” you can’t even finish your sentence. You gesture to your mouth, hoping he gets the hint, but he just tilts his head. “There’s— oh my god.”

He laughs too, but it sounds more confused than yours. “You’re starting to freak me out, Y/n. What are you laughing at?”

“There’s food in your braces!” You finally manage to say. You have to set down your bowl so you don’t spill anything—that’s how hard you’re laughing.

His face turns bright red and he moves so fast that he spills his bowl of food all over his lap. He stands up quickly, hissing at how hot it is. And, of course, that only makes you laugh harder. 

And then it hits you. You like this kid. You like his stupid jokes and his stupid smile and his stupid braces and the stupid way he moves on the court and the stupid way he’s able to make you laugh so easily.

You are so astronomically fucked.

taglist; @sahrii @kameyyy @cherrysurf @standcom @laaalaaaloooppppsiiieeeee @mayyhaps @mimi3lover @evilari111 @s6rine @taefanclub @3stela @heartmaddie @suvakrpa @autlantic @jayathelostdragon @sickpatientt @gumims @4crewz @frootloopscos @writing-for-the-hell-of-it @literallyushiwaka @asteraslvrr @ursafehaven @charlotterosea13 @xjustxlookingx @baylz @fi-chanwrites @phant0mth1ef @spiderlily-w1tch-blog @l0ckedtomb @iluv-ace @jiminscarmex @eoniiian

bed chem ━━━ iwaizumi hajime

11. a REAL invite

masterlist. previous | next

summary. when an unfortunate incident kicks you out of your university and risks your reputation as one of the top figures skater in the country, you find your place in sendai. but when you discover they only have one rink, designated to their a-league hockey team, your chance at a comeback slips from your grasp. your only in is with the captain of the hockey team. the issue with that? he couldn’t care less who you are.

taglist (47/50). @standcom @thoughtswithbbg @aboutkiyoomi @angtopia @yunavx @celestialm1nd @surfeitstar @xiaoquanquans @istann @aldebrana @mdmraz @softpia @less-chaotic-brain @wakashudou @mo072806 @90s-belladonna @wave2mia @rrosiitas @suuunarin @chaotic-neutral-ig @nanasrkives @hrithi11 @hantas-left-eyebrow @itsdragonius @sexylexy12 @0rangej0e @wordsofelie @p4lli @a-sorrowful-tune @iluv-ace @matt444nixi @charleslec-airlines @meekydeeks @amterasuu @rabbitcola @sickpatientt @sophiahearttss @himec @torkorpse @nscuit @labsbedamned @iloveiwaizumihajime @snoowply @followingmysunsposts @navymacaroons @lover-no-lover61 @shozuken @sunaispretty

Those pretty curls (just like his twin!)….and is that a little smile I see? I think our boy is healing 😭💚💕

@legacygirlingreen @thora-sniper @sukithebean @thecoffeelorian @neyswxrld @somewhere-on-kamino @clonethirstingisreal @royallykt @morerandombullshit @burningfieldof-clover @tbnrpotato @keantha @anxiouspineapple99

Tysm for the response! Here is request!

(Platonic) Rex X 11-12yr Padawan Reader

The reader is detrimentally injured during a join mission with the 501st, and bleeding out severely. They begin to have a panic attack, which only adds to the pain, and dampens everything. Rex stumbles upon them and is quick to act! However- with limited medicinal knowledge, and a panicking padawan, he can only pray Kix get here in time, and offer kind words and promises to the child.

tysm!!

Promise of Tomorrow: Platonic! Rex x Padawan! Reader

-this is such an angsty prompt, I love it

-was going to give this a bad ending in tragedy, but changed my mind since I wasn't sure if you'd want that route

-enjoy and don't forget to reblog!

The icy chill of night sent shivers down your spine. If not for the growing pains in your side, you would have laughed and made a joke about spooky dancing skeletons. Stars glimmered in the navy sky, an abyss of infinity that reminded you of the pulling ache of the Force.

Stars, did your body hurt. You wondered how long you had laid in the overgrown grass for. An hour? Two? The ambush took you by surprise when it shouldn't have, threw you off balance when you should have had two feet planted firmly in the ground.

Where was your Master? Anakin promised he'd be only five miles to the east, a little ways away from the breath of civilisation. He promised to RV with you in this exact spot two hours ago, right where your squad had been massacred at the hands of Count Dooku.

The world seemed to spin the longer you stared at the black of night. Spots danced in your vision, little specs that made your empty stomach churn and gush with nausea. You heaved in a short breath, throat constricting as if a snake had wrapped around your windpipe.

No, no, it had been over two hours hadn't it? The sun set around seven thirty-eight, and the sun had already risen halfway across the sky. That meant...that meant you had been laying here in a pool of your own blood for at least three to four hours.

Were you going to die? The knife embedded in your side had viciously been ripped from your flesh the moment you attempted to run with the last of your men and your life. It was a smart decision on Dooku's account--to have Anakin Skywalker's little padawan bleed out in a field of dead bodies.

Surely, that would leave a wound upon history itself. A tear that could never be mended throughout the Order. After all, your Master was dubbed as 'The Chosen One', was he not?

A dry cough slipped past your lips and you tried not to choke on the irony flavour of blood. It trickled past your lips in little droplets, tiny beads of red that stained your skin crimson.

This was it. This was so it. Your chest began to heave, up and down, up and down. No matter how hard you wanted to trust in the Force and all your teachings instilled by the Jedi of the past, your mind could not focus on the balance resting on your shoulders.

Your breath caught in your throat and you felt it constrict where you lay in the grass, staring at the bodies around you. The only surviving men had gone off to find help with barely their lives in tact, but you feared it was too late.

The scale was sure to tip because you were bleeding out, and the pain in your side only numbed to nothing. Nothing. Oh, didn't that mean you were losing too much blood? Too much strength?

How could you even slur out a cry for help to your comm when your dry lips sealed themselves shut? The cracked skin ached just a bit, but not as much as the burning fact that death was much too near for comfort.

Your breath hitched impossibly tight. Breathe. Breathe. Why couldn't you breathe? Speak? Scream? All that filled your ears was the rush of blood and the heavy sound of your strangled cries.

You were dying. You were dying and all alone.

Master Skywalker. Oh, how you prayed for him to hear your pleas, your cries, the tears that burned your blurry vision with salty fluids. Breathe, you reminded. Breathe!

Yet no breath escaped your lips, no oxygen entered your lungs. Breathe. Breathe--

"Commander!"

A faint pair of footsteps echoed through the fog of your dulled mind. You wondered why the voice sounded so familiar, and why it called out to your heart with warmth.

"You have to stay with me!"

The panicked expression on the boy's face made your senses reel in. His name--you knew it, right? It started with an f? No, no. An 'r'. His name...his name was Rex.

You blinked languidly, a dumb sort of realisation dawning on you as you heaved and heaved. Wow, was it always this hard to think? It must be the blood and the way your throat kept closing. Or maybe the blurry dots spanning your vision as you faded into the abyss of a cold, meaningless death--

"Stay with me!" cried Rex. He lifted an arm and you vaguely registered it as his comm. A voice came from the other end, but you couldn't quite register it as he  began to shout aggressively. The mixture of angry sounds, the movement of his lips, fell on deaf ears.

All you heard was the ragged sound of your strangled breathing.

It was as if the world had come to a slow stop. The rush of adrenaline, the swaying of overgrown grass, the silence of only death beside you.

"R-Rex," --you wildly met his eyes-- "h..help." A part of you almost wanted to laugh at the stupidity of such a plea.

Help?

How could he help if your throat wasn't working to deliver the oxygen to your lungs?

Help...?

How could he help when he wasn't a medic?

Much less Kix?

You continued to heave, tears blurring your vision. You didn’t want to die. Not yet and not now. Your squad had given their lives beside you, how cruel would it be for their sacrifices to be in vain?

You thought back to your days in the Temple as a mere Youngling, the evenings when sun leaked through the window panes in golden arcs above your head. It had always been warm in the Temple. Comforting. You wondered if it would have been better to live your life as a specialist in medicine for the Order, or as a harvester of plants.

Anything...anything but this, right? Anything but that aching pain in your chest and that lingering chill of death over your shoulder.

Rex’s lips kept moving. Sound slowly fell into the atmosphere, little droplets that hit your ears like a waterfall. You sensed his urgency, his own pain that flooded his honest heart. You couldn’t die in his arms, not him. Not when he was your best friend, your companion.

“Stay with me!” he pleaded. “You’re gonna make it, I promise.” You would have shaken your head if you could. What kind of lie was he telling you?

Tears ran down your cheeks as you chocked out a jumble of words. A familiar mantra filled your head (I am one with the Force and the Force is with me), one you focused on in order to be with Rex. Your friend. It was all you could offer when fear clouded your mind and death rang true.

“I...I’m going to die.” you stammered between breaths. “I-I’m sorry. I-I’m s-so sorr...sorry.” Rex firmly took your hand in his and gave it a squeeze. In your mind, you heard the memories rushing into his head, the anguish of all the death he faced. “You are not going to die.” he affirmed. “You are not going to die!”

“R-Rex...” You shook your head with a chocked sob. “I-I failed my...my Master and my s-squad...I failed...I failed as a Jedi...”

He only squeezed your hand harder. Held you a little tighter. “No, you did not. If that were true, then you would have already died. I know how close you were to your squad, and I know they would want to see you live. I saw them on the way here, they're going to get Kix and he'll patch you right up, understood?”

All you sensed from his heart was the burn of determination and the fierce beating of loyalty. He would not leave your side, nor would he accept your words even if it were with your dying breath. To him, and to him alone, you were always admirable.

Special, he had once said.

And whatever that meant shouldn’t really matter, right? Even if determination were not enough to keep you alive, you began to wonder, trust. Maybe...Rex was right. He wouldn’t lie to you. He wouldn’t.

With those firm hands, Rex dabbed away your tears. “You’re going to be okay, understood, Commander? You will not die. Not on my watch.”

To Rex, you were special. Not because you were a Jedi or because you were practically a child soldier, but because you were you. In the last moments of the  battle with your squad, you were willing to give your life to fight alongside them.

Still, you couldn’t believe that last bit--the part of him thinking you as ‘special’. For Rex, your friend, your confidant, your companion, held tight to the promise of tomorrow. That piece of determined belief left you gripping tight to life.

Tight to words that rang true in your heart. You shut your eyes, focusing on the pull of the Force. Its calm was just out of your reach, barely a hair's away as you grasped and seized it.

I am one with the Force, you thought. And the Force is with me.

Your breaths began to steady into a calm, where not even the heaviest rains could stir your ocean. The breath slowly returned to your body as you focused on the Force, the warmth of Rex's hand as he kept a firm grasp.

"You're not dying," he affirmed once again. "Not on my watch, Commander." And there was a sureness to his voice that made his words nothing but truth.

The buzz of a speeder cut through the night air, where blades of grass bowed down as a group of men raced over with a med kit. You didn't need to look over to know Kix was amongst them, ordering the remnants of your squad to check for any survivors.

And as Kix knelt before you and got to work, you had a feeling everything would be okay. "Rex," you croaked. "You're not leaving yet, right?"

Rex gave your hand a firm squeeze with a shake of his head. "No, Commander. I'll be right by your side."

There was nothing truer than hearing Rex's voice. Your eyes fluttered shut and you muttered out a small 'okay'. The oceans of calm in your heart continued to remain still, where even the smallest of boats could cross the seas unharmed.

You were in good hands, and for that, there would always be a promise of tomorrow.

Thinking about an incident happening where 20 David responds to a high risk call on a house in a quiet little neighborhood, only to find age gap, content creator reader having a peaceful day. She has no idea what's going on as they bust in with guns raised and shouting at her. She's just relaxing and they come in and handcuff her, making her cry because they've scared her so bad.

As Hondo and his team look around, they figure out they've been duped. This beautiful young lady isn't some criminal holding someone hostage and making threats like the 911 caller had said. They still have to check the house over, but as soon as that's cleared up, she's let go but the team feels bad.

As Hondo apologizes on the behalf of his team and the LAPD, Luca sits with her and tries to help her calm down. Despite his broad build, he's a total sweetheart and assuring her that nothing is gonna happen to her. He does have to ask why someone would wanna do this to her. They talk through any exes who were unhappy with the end of their relationship or someone connected to her job.

The rest of his team get to work on figuring out why this happened as well, and Luca stays with her the whole time because he feels bad and wants to make up for scaring her so bad. He tries to help take her mind off of it after a while by asking her about what kind of content she makes and it gives her some peace of mind as she explains it to him. And then they talk about other things and he gets her to smile, which he can't help but looks beautiful. It's a great contrast to the tears she was shedding beforehand.

@passionwillow. I don't know what happens next lol

⁝ TSUKISHIMA KEI 𝜗𝜚 boyfriend texts 𝜗𝜚

ᰔ content warning ; smau 、 profanity 、 a touch of yachi x yamaguchi 、 sarcasm 、 he loves u, promise 、 shit talking is his love language 、 sassy tsuki.

hi big fan but too scared to publicly request 😭

could u do the Bad Batch boys reacting to female reader having a boyfriend they didn't know about? like maybe they're on break at the barracks and she starts dressing more revealing and cute and then leaving and they spot her with a man 😭

but ofc, because we love our clones more then other men, something needs to go horribly wrong so she splits up with them and comes back crying or something. you can add whatever twist you want, but (projecting here) perhaps the man was just trying to rush physical things with her and treating her like an object from the beginning and she just wanted to impress him until he started making her uncomfortable. hmm, very specific 🤔

anyway, love your writing so much. thank you 🙏

Your wish is my command

Word Count: 3.3k Pairings: Mostly platonic Bad Batch x fem!reader Warnings: objectifying d-bag bf, lil violence, a beer or two, jealous men Summary: The Bad Batch are back on Coruscant and looking for a night out with you. They find you and your new, unsavory boyfriend.

Frustrated and edged with exhaustion, Crosshair stomped onto the Marauder. He’d spent the last hour scouring the upper level of Coruscant for you to no avail. You’d missed your usual visit with the men of Clone Force 99 when they were on-world.

Visiting you became routine after their first visit to the Capitol. They’d come for special training before they were even assigned their signature armor. Ready for a taste of the real world, they’d snuck out into the city on their first night and right into the arms of swindlers. 

Somehow they’d fallen into the sights of a charming group of people you were all too familiar with. You watched the whole scene unfold from the balcony of your apartment. They promised to show the men a ‘good time’ and you knew that came with some unsavory consequences.

With nothing better planned for your night, you intervened and saved the men from, at the very least, being scammed. It turned out to be an unforgettable night with four new friends to boot and, when leave allowed, they’d find you for some fun.

So, with a few days between mission briefings and not knowing when they’d have leave again, the Batch tried to track you down. The problem was that this time they couldn’t find you anywhere - anywhere being your home or at the store you worked. 

Tech stayed with the ship while the rest looked for you. Hunter, Wrecker, and Echo were the first to turn in, leaving Crosshair to finish the hunt.

Hunter and Echo hung around the cockpit while Wrecker kicked back in a chair near the nav screens when Crosshair returned. As he sunk into the open nav chair next to Wrecker, Tech, wiping his hands on a rag, came aboard. 

Wrecker swiveled to face Crosshair with his head cradled in his hands. “Still can’t find her?”

Leaning onto his elbows, Crosshair growled into his hands. “What gave it away?”

“Did you check her coordinates?” Tech asked, seemingly exasperated by their wasted efforts.

“And how would we check her coordinates?” Echo scoffed from the cockpit. He and Hunter meandered their way towards the other three.

Tech looked between his brothers, disturbed by their blatant ignorance. “With the tracking device I gave her.”

Crosshair’s head shot up, masking his interest with a show of distaste, “You put a tracking device on her?”

Clearly offended by the idea, Tech snapped back, “No.” She wanted to make sure we could find her easily.” The silence that fell between them suggested they didn’t believe him. 

“You were all there.” He insisted, waiting for them to remember only to be met with silence. Sighing, Tech’s shoulders fell and he raised his forearm as he muttered, “Must’ve been when we were alone.”

Wrecker shot forward in his seat, jabbing an accusatory finger at Tech. “When were you alone with her?” The corner of Tech’s lips ticked up as he tapped through his controls, but he didn’t grant Wrecker a response.

They all seemed to forget that Tech kept plenty of information close to the chest. He also tended to be the more sober one of their nights out. They called him a lightweight, but having found it leant him private time with you he called it a fair trade.

After a few seconds, Tech pinpointed your location. Something caught in his throat when he saw how close you were. Tech proudly announced, “Found her. She’s at a lounge one sector over.”

His earlier annoyance faded as Crosshair pushed a toothpick into his smirk, “Sounds like she might need some company.”

“Well boys,” Hunter spoke up with a grin. Tossing a thumb in the direction of the exit he asked the group, “What do you think? Should we crash her night?”

Wrecker bounced up, filling the Marauder with a loud laugh. “You kiddin’? I can’t wait to see the look on her face.”

The men wasted no time in heading your way. Wrecker and Hunter led the group through the crowded streets, followed by Crosshair and Echo with Tech trailing behind with his face in a datapad, making sure they didn’t lose track of you.

Crosshair, noticing Echo’s half-worried look, tapped Echo with his elbow, “Lighten up, Echo. You might have fun for once.”

Used to Crosshair’s prodding, Echo rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide the amusement in his voice, “Yeah, well some people don’t like surprises. This is either going to be fine or be a complete disaster.”

“Most likely a disaster.” Tech chimed in from the back.

You were only a few minutes away in a dark, basement floor lounge. Amongst a smattering of half-empty booths and dim lighting, you stood near the bar with a small group of men. 

In the time between Clone Force 99’s last visit and now, you’d fallen in with a man you’d met through work. He was nice enough, persistent in pursuing you and his attention wasn’t unwelcome.

You found yourself answering his calls, meeting his friends, and spending time with him on your days off. Slowly the casual company became intimate and so you stood amongst his friends, in a dark lounge with his hand on the small of your back. The dress you wore, chosen by your new boyfriend, was a little tight for your taste and exposed nearly all of your back.

He claimed it would boost your confidence. The twirling he had you do for his friends suggested it was for his own ego.

Your partner promised you’d be gone by midnight - a promise he’d broken more than once so far. Impatience and boredom dragged the night out, soothed only by cocktails and the bracelet you fidgeted with.

It was a handcrafted gift from Tech and their way to find you. You’d asked for the device in hopes that it would make you miss them less.

It didn’t. You decided that next time you were getting their comm channel out of them even if by force. If there was a next time.

Distracting yourself from the idle conversation around you, your eyes drifted around the mostly empty room. The music was as low as the lighting, only meant to allow conversations to remain private.

The group was having a fun time, some of the jokes even broadened your smile, but generally you were counting the minutes until you could leave. 

Commotion echoed down the front stairwell, breaking the calm of the establishment. Loud, booming laughter quieted your group, piqued your interest, and dialed your attention onto a familiar sound. Your heart stopped when you recognized the sound of shifting armor. For the first time all night, a genuine, albeit hopeful, smile brightened your face.

You stopped breathing all together when the Bad Batch stepped into the room. As impressive as the first time you saw them, your five friends fanned out with each of them scanning the room. Crosshair, ever the eagle eye, spotted you and shoved the brother beside him, Tech, with his elbow.

They were looking for you, you realized. The thought propelled you towards them, your feet barely touching the ground.

You’d not seen the Batch in months. A part of you had worried for the worst - that you’d never see them again. That nagging part of you grew larger than you’d realized, big enough that the relief of seeing them nearly reduced you to tears.

“C’mere, Mesh’la!” Wrecker bellowed, catching you in his arms as you hurled yourself at him. His hands scorched your back, a sensation you’d not felt in the months of their absence.

The harder you held onto Wrecker the more his armor dug into you, making it even harder to breathe through your excitement. When he finally set you down, you immediately latched onto the next closest man, Echo.

The smell of you overwhelmed him for a moment and he had to bite back a groan when he caught a sight of your exposed back. Echo couldn’t even return the gesture before you pulled away and whacked his chest plate. 

Stiffening your lip, you made a poor attempt at a scowl.

Hunter stepped in on you, not hesitating in wiping away your budding tears. “That look says you didn’t miss us too much.” Being so close to you after so long gave him half a thought to kiss you.

“The tears had me fooled,” taunted Crosshair from somewhere beside Wrecker.

Despite the half-assed scowl, a smile broke through and relief warbled your voice. “Do you even know how long it’s been?” You demanded, casting a look between them all.

Tech came to your side, plucking up your wrist for inspection. “Ninety-eight standard rotations.” He said casually, removing your bracelet without looking up.

The anxiety that spiked as he let you go forced your hand to keep him close. Your touch snapped his head up and you tilted towards him, playfully purring, “Aw, you missed me enough to count?”

He opened his mouth, some witty remark surely on his tongue, but a different voice piped up.

“Should I assume these men are your friends?” Your boyfriend said from behind you. You’d all but forgotten where you were and who you were with. 

Immediately releasing Tech, you turned away from the clones, pivoting to stand between them and your partner. Flashing a weak smile you waved in the direction of the Batch, meaning to introduce them.

Crosshair cut you short by stepping forward, putting himself halfway between you and your partner. Sporting a challenging smile, Crosshair looked the stranger up and down. Clearly unimpressed he scoffed, “What’s it to you?”

A pit formed in your stomach when your boyfriend planted his hand on your back. The possessive touch didn’t carry the same flame Wrecker’s did, something you’d not realized up to that point.

“I try to make a habit of knowing my girlfriend’s friends.” Your partner said, accentuating the sentiment with a kiss to your temple.

Slightly horrified Tech recoiled, incredulously parroting in unison with Hunter, “Girlfriend?”

It would’ve been impossible to inform them while they were away, and you certainly owed them no explanation, nonetheless shame crept through you. Avoiding the eyes of your friends, you grinned at your boyfriend, “Let me introduce you to the finest soldiers the Grand Army of the Republic has to offer.” Proudly inhaling your smile grew and you added, “And my friends.”

Looking between your boyfriend and the group, an odd thought occurred to you. You’d never realized the man beside you was on the short side. Shorter even Hunter at least.

Wrecker placed a hand over his chest, mockingly cooing to Crosshair, “Aww, she likes us.” 

Crosshair snorted, when it wasn’t directed at him Crosshair went along with his Wrecker’s goading. Crossing his arms and leaning towards his larger brother, the sniper mused “She’s even blushing.”

Your boyfriend snapped his head towards you, annoyed to see that you were indeed blushing. He’d not seen you get this easily worked up. Although he knew from the moment you ran into Wrecker’s arms that he wanted you nowhere near the men. 

Slowly scanning your form, a condescending smile perked Crosshair’s lips. “Didn’t know that was your style,” He nodded at you, obviously referring to your outfit.

Crosshair never failed to pull a reaction out of you, this time you were  interrupted by your boyfriend slipping his hand up your back and down your arm. The action knotted frustration in your throat as it was what he had done with his friends. 

The longer Crosshair watched this man with his hands all over you, the harder Crosshair bit down on his toothpick. Since you’d first coerced him to dance, Crosshair’s own hands still ached to find their way back to your waist.

And just as he had with his friends, your boyfriend lifted your arm by your hand. He gave you a light jostle, encouraging you to spin around. “It suits her, doesn’t it? I picked it out myself.” 

Where the eyes of his friends felt oily and unwelcome, you only felt heated embarrassment in front of Clone Force 99.

The dress flattered you and you could admit that, at times, you’d imagined how it’d feel for the clones to see you in something like it. You wondered what it would be like for even one of them to see you as more than a friend. To find you attractive. Maybe even want you. But not like this.

Unbeknownst to you, the men did find you attractive. Exceedingly so even. You were a breath of fresh air for them and the only glimpse of normalcy they had. 

As opposed to spinning, you tried to tug your hand free as you mumbled under a smile, “I don’t want to do that.”

Hunter and Echo exchanged a confused look. Just as your boyfriend hadn’t seen this excited side of you, the Batchers hadn’t seen you like this. You looked uncomfortable.

Meanwhile, your boyfriend firmly held your hand. Groaning, he tilted his head back in feigned exhaustion. “Babe,” he dragged the word out before speaking to you like he was correcting a child. “We talked about this, lighten up and give us a spin.” 

Hunter caught you off guard when he pulled your hand free. While he kept his touch soft in light of whatever new boundaries your boyfriend posed, he wasn’t going to watch you be pushed around. Unwilling to risk your discomfort, he made sure to step out of your space quickly.

You almost stepped with him.

“She said ‘no.’” Hunter said with the authority of his rank. 

Your boyfriend scoffed and drew back in disbelief. “I’m sorry, where did you all even come from?” Either out of misplaced bravado or from the liquid courage, he advanced on Hunter. “Don’t speak for her.”

Blinking away the irony, you tried pulling him back. “He wasn’t,” you whispered in attempts to soothe him.

He yanked out of your touch, earning a growl from Wrecker. Raising his voice in challenge, your boyfriend insisted, “No, I think he was.”

Ever the voice of reason, Echo stepped in beside Hunter. “Why don’t we just take a breath?” Echo’s hazel eyes fell to you, brows pulling together in a silent question.

“I’m fine, Echo.”

“You’re fine?” Your boyfriend whipped his irritation around on you. A beat of fury pulsed between you and all you could do was smile awkwardly. How had this escalated so quickly?

“I’m sorry,” You chuckled in astonishment. “What’s going on with you?”

Neither of you backed down, in fact he only pushed harder by angling his face into your space. “What’s going on with me?” The smell of liquor on his breath finally connected the dots for you. “What other friends do you have that I don’t know about?” 

Suddenly, something caught his eye. Turning his attention to Tech, your boyfriend pointed at your bracelet in Tech’s hand. “What are you doing with that?” He asked suspiciously.

Tech, who had been silently picking the stranger apart, gave a scornful roll of his eyes. Tucking the accessory away in one of his many pockets, Tech said in a dry tone, “I don’t believe what I do with my gift is of any importance to you.” He may or may not have purposely mentioned ‘my gift.’

Wearing a confident smirk, Tech looked directly at the man beside you as he said, “It suits her, doesn’t it?”

As if on cue, your boyfriend gave you a seething, sideways glance, playing right into Tech’s hand.

Heaving a sigh, and trying to lend him the benefit of the doubt, you made another attempt at directing him away from your friends. “Why don’t you-”

This time he smacked your hand hard enough that it stung. This was a side of him you’d not expected and it was not one you liked. 

A snarl rippled through Crosshair as he lunged between you, put his hand over your boyfriend’s face, and thrashed him backwards. Wrecker cackled, only encouraging a wicked smile from Crosshair as he shifted over your splayed out boyfriend.

You winced at the spot of blood coming from his nose. Notably, though, you didn’t intervene this time.

Wrecker came around to you, resisting the urge to step the man on the ground by completely passing over him. Gently, he lowered himself to your eye level and lifted your hand. His touch felt so different from that of the man you were seeing, it made you completely forget the feeling in your hand.

They all made you feel so different. You’d missed them much more than you’d realized.

“You alright, Mesh’la?” Wrecker swiped his palm over your cheek and down your neck to rest on your shoulder.

The soft smile you offered him swelled something in Wrecker’s chest. Your presence created a soft spot in his life, making it harder to leave you with each trip.

You laid a hand over the massive one on your shoulder, “I’m fine, really.” Although it probably wasn’t ‘fine’ that you had to reassure them all over the behavior of someone meant to be your partner.

From the ground, the man in question snickered, “I see it now.” Pushing up onto his elbows, he spat, “You’re just a barracks bunny.”

The insinuation was lost on you but not Echo.

Echo lurched through the group, shoved Crosshair aside and ripped the drunken man by his collar. “You little scumslug!”

For what seemed like the first time ever, Echo had to be the one restrained. Hunter broke in and yanked Echo up before he could drill his scomp into the downed man. You and the rest of his squad all wore similarly surprised expressions. 

Seeing Echo lose his temper was the breaking point for you. The man you’d allowed into your life was still panting on the ground when came to stand over him. He didn’t say anything, knowing full well what the look on your face meant.

“Don’t call me again,” You muttered dismissively and said nothing else as you turned to leave, waving for the others to follow. “Let’s go guys.”

They all followed suit, except for Crosshair. He crouched onto the balls of his feet and leveled a sneer to your newly dubbed ex. Low enough for just the two of them to hear, Crosshair said, “We’ll know if you bother her again.” The sniper drew just an inch closer to hiss, “Come near her again and you’ll never see daylight again.”

Crosshair sat still for a moment, ensuring the promise properly sunk in. Having watched the color drain from the man, Crosshair flicked his toothpick into the sad sack’s face.

When you all finally made it back to your place, it was decided that a quiet night in was well deserved for you all. It didn’t exempt the night from at least a few drinks.

Returning from your kitchen with a round of beers, you settled onto your couch between Echo and Tech. Wrecker lounged on the floor while Crosshair and Hunter occupied the remaining arms chairs.

They regaled you with stories from the front lines in exchange for the quiet comfort of your company. Eventually, you reclined against Tech, eyes shut, as he scrolled through his datapad.

“Echo.” You said, seemingly out of nowhere. Peaking an eye open you lilted a suspicious smile his way. 

Mid-sip, Echo could only hum in acknowledgment. When you asked, “What’s a barracks bunny?” He nearly choked on his drink.

“Yeah,” Wrecker blurted out, the confusion coming back to him. “I was wondering that too?”

All eyes were on Echo as a flush came over him. It hadn’t dawned on him that the men of his new squad had little experience with typical trooper slang or the rumors regarding some regs.

“It’s...” He stuttered to get the definition out, ultimately shaking his head and setting his beer aside. Passing the buck to Tech, he chuckled, “You know what, Tech why don’t you put the holonet to good use and look that one up yourself.”

taglist: @baddest-batchers @bruh-myguy-what @jetii @zahmaddog

a/n: Thank you to everyone who offered me their words of support over the last month. It's been a really dark time and I'm always amazed by how lovely this fandom is. I'm forever grateful to all you barracks bunnies out there.

sorry, wrong number! — tanaka ryuunosuke. chapter nine; the lord.

content ; smau. profanity (i think). kuroo and tanaka interaction, yay! basically just filler fluff. meeya finally posted another swn chapter - who cheered?!

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Lost without you

Summary: What happens when Tim Bradford’s secret girlfriend, Y/N, shows up at the station with his forgotten lunch, leaving his coworkers stunned by the reveal?

Note: I’m happy I’m back to being active, but this time I decided to switch it up a bit. I decided to add the one and only Tim Bradford to my list and here is my first ever story I wrote about him. Enjoy! 😊

Tim Bradford x reader

Genre: fluff

Tim Bradford was a man of precision, discipline, and control. His reputation as the gruff, no-nonsense sergeant at the LAPD was well-earned, and his coworkers knew better than to mess with him unnecessarily.

He lived by structure, with everything in its place, including his private life.

What nobody at the station knew, however, was that he had been in a relationship for the past three years, a relationship that softened him in ways no one would believe if they saw him at work.

You were the polar opposite of Tim in every way.

Shy, soft-spoken, and a bit introverted, you’d never imagined yourself dating someone as commanding and straightforward as him.

But Tim had an unshakable way of making you feel safe, cherished, and seen.

Your differences didn’t drive you apart; they were what made your relationship thrive.

Sure, there was an age gap, but neither of you cared. What mattered was how deeply you loved one another.

Tim loved teasing you to get a reaction. Whether it was a quick quip to make you blush or a small gesture in public that only you two would understand.

He thrived on the little moments when he could make you flustered.

And you? You adored his steady, unwavering presence, the man behind the uniform who was patient, gentle, and surprisingly affectionate.

The morning started off as usual. Tim had woken up early, slipping out of bed quietly to avoid disturbing you.

But today, you stirred, blinking up at him groggily as he adjusted his shirt in front of the mirror.

“You’re leaving already?” you mumbled, your voice thick with sleep.

He turned, his gaze softening as he saw you stretching under the covers. “Didn’t mean to wake you,” he said, walking over to the bed.

He leaned down to press a soft kiss to your forehead, his hand brushing over your hair. “Go back to sleep, sweetheart.”

You yawned and shook your head. “You always say that, but I like seeing you before you go.”

You sat up, rubbing your eyes. “Did you grab your lunch?”

Tim gave you a sheepish smile, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. “Not yet.”

“Of course,” you teased, rolling your eyes. “What would you do without me?”

He smirked, leaning down until his face was inches from yours. “Starve, probably.”

Your cheeks heated at the proximity, and you pushed at his chest lightly.

“You’re impossible,” you muttered, though your smile betrayed your words.

He kissed you again this time on the lips, before standing.

“Thanks for putting up with me,” he said softly. “See you tonight?”

“Be safe,” you said, watching him leave.

But as the door clicked shut, you glanced at the counter and saw the neatly packed lunch you’d prepared for him.

Classic Tim, you thought with a fond smile.

Hours later, you found yourself at the station, Tim’s lunch in hand. As much as you loved Tim, the idea of walking into his workplace made your stomach twist nervously.

You’d never been to his station before. Tim had always been adamant about keeping his personal life separate from work.

But you knew he’d appreciate the gesture, and it was an excuse to see him again.

As you approached the front desk, the officer there gave you a curious look. “Can I help you?”

“Uh, hi,” you said, holding up the brown paper bag.

“I’m here to see Sergeant Bradford. He…uh, forgot his lunch.”

The officer raised an eyebrow but paged Tim down. You waited, feeling out of place amid the bustling officers.

When Tim finally appeared, his stern expression softened immediately upon seeing you.

“Y/N?” he said, his voice tinged with surprise.

“You forgot this,” you said, handing him the bag.

Your voice came out quieter than you’d intended, and you felt your cheeks flush under his gaze.

Tim stepped closer, taking the bag from you. “What would I do without you?” he murmured, his fingers brushing yours briefly.

His touch lingered for a moment before he reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Probably starve,” you said with a small smile, using his own words against him.

His lips quirked up into a smirk. “You’re too good to me, sweetheart. I would be in fact so lost without you.”

Behind him, his coworkers: Lucy, Nolan, Angela, and Jackson had stopped in their tracks, watching the exchange with wide eyes.

Tim wasn’t exactly known for being…well, affectionate. Yet here he was, smiling at you like you were the only person in the world.

“Thanks, baby,” he said, his voice softer than you’d ever heard it. “I’ll see you at home later, okay?”

You nodded, your cheeks burning as he pressed a quick kiss to your forehead.

As you turned to leave, you felt several pairs of eyes on you. You glanced back once, catching Tim’s gaze.

He gave you a small, reassuring smile, and you felt your nerves settle.

As soon as you were out of earshot, the questions started.

“Who was that?” Lucy asked, her eyes wide with curiosity.

“Yeah,” Nolan chimed in, his eyebrows raised. “Since when do you smile like that?”

Tim sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Drop it.”

“Oh, no way,” Angela said, grinning. “She’s cute. Is she your friend? A cousin? A-”

“Not your concern,” Tim interrupted sharply, his tone brooking no argument.

The group exchanged incredulous looks but didn’t back down.

“Come on, Tim,” Lucy pressed. “You’ve been holding out on us. Who is she?”

Tim crossed his arms, fixing them with a pointed glare. “It’s personal.”

Lucy scoffed. “Oh, that’s not going to cut it. You can’t just act all sweet and lovey-dovey and expect us not to ask questions.”

“Ask all you want,” Tim said flatly. “I’m not answering.”

Angela tilted her head, smirking. “You’re really not going to tell us?”

“Nope,” Tim replied, his lips twitching as if daring them to keep trying.

The group groaned in unison, clearly frustrated.

“You’re impossible,” Lucy muttered, throwing her hands up.

Tim just shrugged. “And you’re nosy.”

Despite their protests, he refused to give in, leaving them buzzing with unanswered questions.

That evening, Tim came home to find you in the kitchen, humming softly as you stirred a pot of pasta.

He leaned against the doorway, a small smile tugging at his lips. After a moment, he walked over and wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you close.

“Hey, baby,” he murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple.

“Tim!” you yelped, startled. “You scared me!”

He chuckled, resting his chin on your shoulder. “Sorry. I couldn’t help myself. You looked too cute.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, turning in his arms to face him. “Long day?”

He let out a low sigh, his hands settling on your waist. “Better now,” he said, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “You? Everything okay?”

You smiled, resting your hands against his chest. “Yeah, just the usual. I missed you, though.”

His lips curled into a soft smile, and he kissed you tenderly. “Missed you too.”

As you sat down to eat dinner together, Tim began telling you about his coworkers’ reaction to your visit earlier.

“They wouldn’t stop asking questions,” he said, shaking his head. “Who you were, why you were there, if we were related. I shut them down, but they were relentless.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, setting your fork down.

“They must think I’m some random girl who wandered into the station. Or worse, someone putting up with your grumpy self.”

Tim smirked, leaning back in his chair. “Oh, they definitely think you’re crazy for that. But I didn’t give them anything. Figured it wasn’t their business.”

You tilted your head, considering.

“I mean… maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if they knew. They’re your friends too, right? They might tease you, but it’s not like they’ll judge us.”

His expression softened as he studied you. “You’d be okay with that? Them knowing about us?”

You reached across the table, taking his hand.

“Yeah, I think so. I mean, it’s not like we’re doing anything wrong. And it might make things easier for you at work if they aren’t constantly guessing.”

Tim laced his fingers with yours, squeezing gently. “If you’re sure. I didn’t want to say anything unless you were ready.”

You gave him a reassuring smile. “I am. Besides, i would rather have them know the truth than think I’m your secret cousin or something weird.”

He laughed, the sound warm and genuine. “Fair enough.”

After a moment, his gaze turned serious. “You know, I don’t care what anyone else thinks. I’m not hiding how much I love you, Y/N. Never have, never will.”

Your heart swelled at his words, and you squeezed his hand tighter. “I know, Tim. And I love you too. So, let’s do it. Let’s stop hiding.”

Tim nodded, his smirk returning. “Alright. But don’t blame me when they start interrogating you instead.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “I’ll take my chances.”

He leaned across the table, brushing his lips against yours. “You’re incredible, you know that?”

“And you’re biased,” you teased, grinning.

“Damn right,” he said, his voice full of affection.

The next day, you found yourself back at the station. This time, it wasn’t because Tim forgot his lunch by accident, it was very much on purpose.

You knew this because when you asked him about it that morning, he had shrugged and said, “Maybe I’ll forget again,” with a mischievous smirk that made you narrow your eyes.

Now, standing outside the station with his lunch in hand, you felt the same nervous flutter in your stomach as the day before.

You weren’t used to being in Tim’s world, surrounded by his colleagues and the constant hum of police activity.

Still, you were here for him, and that was enough to push you through your shyness.

As you walked inside, the same officer at the front desk spotted you. He raised an eyebrow but smirked knowingly. “Back again?”

You nodded, offering a polite smile. “He forgot his lunch. Again.”

The officer chuckled and picked up the phone. “Sergeant Bradford, your…lunch delivery is here.”

A few moments later, Tim appeared. He didn’t look surprised to see you, of course, he wasn’t.

His face softened immediately as he spotted you, and he walked over with his usual confident stride.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he greeted, his voice low and warm as he reached for the bag. “You didn’t have to come all the way here again.”

You rolled your eyes playfully. “Someone has to make sure you eat, Tim.”

He smirked, his fingers brushing yours as he took the bag. He held your gaze for a moment longer, and you felt your cheeks heat under his intense stare.

“Thanks, baby,” he murmured, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your forehead.

The small gesture made your heart flutter, but you became acutely aware of the stares from across the room.

Tim’s coworkers Lucy, Angela, Nolan, Jackson, and Harper were watching the scene unfold with varying degrees of shock and curiosity.

You tried to ignore them, but their presence only made you more self-conscious.

“I should get going,” you said softly, glancing down at your hands.

Tim frowned slightly. “You sure? You can stay for a bit if you want.”

You shook your head. “I don’t want to get in the way.”

“You’re never in the way,” he said firmly, his hand brushing against your arm. The touch was gentle, reassuring.

Before you could respond, Lucy Chen’s voice cut through the air.

“Okay, who is she? Is she the girl from yesterday?”

You froze, your eyes widening as Lucy and the others approached. Tim sighed, running a hand through his hair.

You wanted to answer and tell them the truth. You had gotten the confidence from the conversation you had with Tim last night, but unfortunately, your shyness won again.

“Not now, Chen,” he muttered, but it was too late.

Lucy crossed her arms, a sly grin on her face. “Come on, Tim. You can’t expect us to just ignore this.”

Angela joined her, smirking. “Yeah, you’ve been keeping enough secrets, Bradford. Spill.”

Nolan, ever the curious one, chimed in, “She brought you lunch again. That’s not just a random act of kindness.”

You felt your face heat, and you instinctively took a small step closer to Tim.

Sensing your discomfort, Tim placed a protective hand on the small of your back.

“Guys, this is Y/N,” he said, his voice calm but firm. “And that’s all you need to know.”

“Oh, come on,” Lucy said, her grin widening. “Y/N…what? Girlfriend? Sister? Cousin? Who is she?”

Tim’s jaw clenched, and you could tell he was seconds away from shutting them down completely.

But before he could, Angela spoke up again, her tone teasing.

“She’s too cute to be your sister. So, girlfriend it is?”

Tim let out an exasperated sigh, but he didn’t deny it. That was all the confirmation they needed.

“Oh my god,” Lucy said, her eyes wide. “You’ve been dating someone this whole time, and we’re just now finding out? For how long has this been going on?”

“Three years,” Tim said simply, his tone clipped.

The group gaped at him in disbelief.

“Three years?!” Angela exclaimed. “How and why did you keep that a secret?”

“Because it’s none of your business,” Tim replied, his hand still resting on your back.

Angela laughed. “I can’t believe this. Tim Bradford, the grumpiest guy in the station, has a girlfriend, and she’s adorable. How does that work?”

Tim gave her a pointed look. “Angela…”

She held up her hands in mock surrender. “Okay, okay. I’ll stop.”

But Lucy wasn’t done. She turned to you, her expression curious but friendly.

“So, Y/N, what’s your secret? How do you put up with him?”

You hesitated, unsure of how to respond but still laughed at her question.

Tim chuckled softly, his hand moving to squeeze your shoulder.

“She’s unbelievably patient,” he said, his tone light.

You looked up at him, surprised by the teasing warmth in his voice. It wasn’t often that Tim let his guard down like this, especially not in front of his coworkers.

“I think you’re worth it,” you said softly, your eyes meeting his.

His expression softened, and for a moment, it was just the two of you.

Lucy let out a dramatic sigh. “Okay, that’s actually kind of sweet.”

Angela nudged her. “Kind of? It’s downright shocking. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Tim look at anyone like that.”

Tim rolled his eyes. “All right, that’s enough. Don’t you all have work to do?”

“Not until we get more details,” Harper said, grinning.

“You’re not getting anything,” Tim said firmly.

Before the group could protest, you turned to Tim. “I really should get going.”

He nodded, his hand dropping to your waist. “I’ll walk you out.”

The group watched as Tim escorted you to the door, their expressions a mix of disbelief and amusement.

Once you were gone, the interrogation continued.

“Okay, seriously,” Lucy said, turning to Tim. “How did you pull that off?”

“Pull what off?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Her,” Angela said. “She’s way too sweet for you.”

Tim smirked. “Maybe I’m not as bad as you all think.”

The group laughed, clearly unconvinced. But beneath their teasing, there was a genuine warmth.

It was clear they were happy for him, even if they couldn’t resist poking fun.

“She should come around more often,” Lucy said. “It’s nice seeing you act like a human being for once.”

“Yeah,” Angela added, grinning. “She makes you tolerable.”

Tim shook his head, but there was a small smile on his face.

When Tim arrived home, he found you curled up on the couch, a blanket draped over your lap.

You looked up as he walked in, your face lighting up with a smile.

“Hey,” you said softly.

He walked over, leaning down to kiss you. “Hey, sweetheart.”

“How was the rest of your day?” you asked, moving over so he could sit beside you.

“Exhausting,” he said, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “But worth it.”

You tilted your head, giving him a curious look. “Worth it? Why?”

He smirked, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “Because I got to show off my amazing girlfriend.”

Your cheeks flushed, and you buried your face in his chest. “You’re impossible.”

“And you love it,” he teased, pressing a kiss to your hair.

You couldn’t argue with that.

The end